How to Make Atobe set Kabaji on You
by Hopeless27
Summary: In which Atobe decides that one psychiatrist doesn't even begin to cover it. Self explanatory title. Next in the How to make Sanada slap you and How to make Tezuka give you Laps series, but not really connected.


**Rated: K +**

**Summary: In which Atobe decides that one shrink just isn't enough**

**Pairings: they're all implied really, so you could potentially see it, but it doesn't have to be there. Mainly a result of their stupidity…**

**Category: Humour/general**

**Characters: Hyoutei**

**Disclaimer: PoT doesn't belong to me, these characters don't belong to me (despite my brain telling me otherwise). They belong to Konomi Takeshi (yes, I need to repeat this in my head in order for me to believe it, or else my mind takes these characters and runs with them)**

**Sequelish of sorts to ****HOW TO MAKE SANADA SLAP YOU**** and ****HOW TO MAKE TEZUKA GIVE YOU LAPS**

* * *

><p><strong>Day 0.5<strong>

In the midst of a pile of cushions, Atobe sprawled himself on his chaise, not quite looking at the man taking notes beside him. At least the aspirin was finally kicking in.

"My tennis team is just an ungodly mixture of high-maintenance ADHD and high-functioning asperger's."

The only sound in the room was the scribbling of the psychiatrist.

"And ever since Oshitari 'won' Jirou in a tennis match, things have gotten even worse."

A pause.

"I mean, can you believe that ore-sama, that I'm" Atobe couldn't hold it in anymore. "Ha…ha… hahahahahahahahahaha." His sentence was interrupted by his rancorous laughter that turned maniacal as soon as it started and cut through the silence. When it didn't stop, the psychiatrist paused nervously.

"… that I'm the sane one in my team."

_Oh dear lord._

**Day 1**

"Mukahi Gakuto!"

Atobe slammed open the door of the student council office, towing the short redhead along.

"Yes Atobe-buchou?" Since when has Mukahi called him buchou?

"What in this sweet world gave you the idea to write that entire Arts History report on why Michelangelo was made a Teenage Mutant Ninja Turtle but Monet was not and discuss whether Monet would use nunchucks or a katana, ahn?"

"… Artistic license?"

"And furthermore, what gave you the idea to submit that paper via post-it-notes on Watanabe-sensei's office door?"

"… Modern Art!"

"Watanabe-sensei is threatening to ban you from the tennis team!"

"Relax buchou, I've got it covered."

"Oh?" This had better be good. After Mukahi's butchering of some of Atobe's favourite artists and his complete lack of understanding of the dynamics of modern art. Atobe really needed something logically coherent from the redhead.

"I stapled 50 boliviano to the post-it-notes."

"…Boliviano…?" He didn't know why his expectations rose for just that moment.

"The currency of Bolivia"

"…Right…" He was going to leave it at that. He really was, until the one single word that he now knew he should never ask crossed his mind and left his lips before he realized. "…why?"

"So that he would give me a better mark, duh!"

"You… tried to bribe a teacher… with Bolivian currency…" and then the thought struck him, "…Are you trying to get back at someone for Oshitari's claim over Jirou?" Insight always worked, even on someone whom Atobe deemed unworthy.

"I don't know what you're talking about." That was said fast. Too fast.

"But you-"

"Did you hear that?"

"What?"

"Never mind, it's gone now." A pause, Atobe opened his mouth to speak again, until… "Did you hear that?"

"What?"

"Never mind it's gone now." Atobe paused, waiting for Mukahi to start his charade again. Mukahi just sat there expectantly. Atobe stopped and gave Mukahi a look that could freeze the blood of polar bears (although presumably, Mukahi's skin was thicker than a polar bear's fur at this point).

"Your-"

"Did you hear that?"

"…"

"Did you hear it?"

"… hear… what?" Atobe was now speaking through clenched teeth.

"Never mind it's gone now."

By this time, Atobe had already stood up. "KABAJI!"

"Usu…." Even before the monosyllabic word ended, Atobe had already slammed the office door and was speed-dialing his psychiatrist.

Kabaji was then left with the task of dealing with Mukahi alone. It was fortunate that he had selective hearing.

**Day 2**

After school training was monotonous. After overseeing training for three years, Atobe had the act almost down to a science. He enjoyed the monotony, really, especially as he was still recovering from the aspirin induced stupor he was in last night as a result of Mukahi. It didn't help that Jirou still technically "belonged" to Oshitari, who was milking the situation for all its worth.

"Your backhand is getting sloppy. Fix it." He called to a second-year.

Why were normal club members so much easier to deal with than the drama queens that were the Hyotei Regulars? It did not help that Jirou, Oshitari and Mukahi were nowhere to be seen.

Suddenly, he heard the beeping noise of a truck backing up. It sounded so pathetic that it had to be faked. Atobe didn't really want to turn, but he did out of his duty as a buchou.

Mukahi was making beeping noises as Kabaji backed up on the tennis court. Why was he not surprised?

"Where the hell have you been, ahn? Do you know what time it is?"

"It's eight thirty!"

"…It's quarter to five."

"Your watch lies! It lies like a lying Shishido with a lying problem trying to deny his love for me sober."

"WHAT?" Shishido shouted from the end of the courts, his hearing apparently rather selective. He dashed across the court and had to be physically restrained by Choutarou to not strangle Mukahi on the spot.

"Shishido, settle down and continue your practise match with Ohtori."

"… FINE"

And all was normal until…

"Swing-batabatabata-suhWING-batter!

"Jirou! What are you doing?"

"I'm cheering Ryou-kun on!" Jirou declared, clapping his hands, adding another "SWING BATABATABATA" for good measure.

"Uh, No… you most definitely are not." Shishido said, speaking now through gritted teeth, having lost his service game as a result of the unexpected cheer.

"Akutagawa-senpai, that's used for baseball, not tennis." Choutarou tried to explain.

"PROVE IT!"

"…Jirou, have you even seen a baseball game?" Shishido jumped in, his veins threatening to pop at any moment.

"PROVE IT."

"Jirou, what in the world did Oshitari do to you?" Atobe finally had to intervene.

"PROVE IT."

"…"

"And don't call me Jirou anymore Kei-chan! You have to call me Conquistador from now on."

"…What are you talking about, ahn?"

"I'm not answering until you call me Conquistador."

"… Do you even know what a Conquistador is…?"

"PROVE IT!"

"…"

_What did ore-sama do to deserve this?_ "OSHITARI YUUSHI! WHAT ARE YOU DOING?"

"I'm teaching Gakuto the lyrics to Ice Ice Baby, Atobe." His voice was smooth.

"Dear Kami-sama…Are you TRYING to kill us all?" Shishido choked on his drink.

"Gekokujyou…" Hiyoshi was the only one sort of enjoying this, but mainly to see Atobe OD on aspirin.

"KABAJI! PHYSICALLY RESTRAIN OSHITARI!"

"Usu."

"Getting kinky there, Atobe." Mukahi called.

"AND HIM TOO! Now Jirou, get down here and start practise or I will make you do it!"

"PROVE IT."

"ARGH!"

**Day 3**

Atobe had gotten up early for Saturday morning practise. He had the servants go through the usual preparations of breakfast before the regulars arrived at the courts. Nobody really minded Saturday morning practise because it meant Atobe was feeding them. Certainly Atobe always sort of looked forward to it.

Until Atobe gazed out the window… and started seeing red.

"…Michael!" He called to his butler.

"Yes, Keigo-bocchama?"

"Why is there a crop circle on my front lawn…?"

"I'm sorry?"

"Why is there an elaborate crop circle on the front lawn…?"

"There can't be, Keigo-bocchama"

"No. I'm telling you. There is an elaborate crop circle on my front lawn."

And there it was. It really needn't have been. It was rather intricate too, with a bunch of inexplicable symbols attached. As Atobe made his way out to the front lawn, he could see the spots where the grass used to be, now cut down into shapes and forms.

Needless to say, Oshitari and Hiyoshi(?) were the first to appear for practise.

"I suppose you two know what happened to my lawn, ahn?"

"What happened to your lawn?" Oshitari feigned innocence.

"Hiyoshi?"

All Hiyoshi did was mutter something that sounded incomprehensibly like "UFO".

"…What?"

"Gekokujyou."

"…Right."

Atobe would try to ignore it for now.

"Ne Atobe, why is your lawn retarded?" Mukahi asked, jumping up and down on the spot.

"Because it saw your face!" Shishido reached to whack Mukahi with his racket but Mukahi dodged it.

"Your mom!" He stuck his tongue out at Shishido and skipped away.

Atobe obviously could not ignore it for long.

"Breakfast is ready, Keigo-bocchama." Even before the butler finished his words, the team scrambled inside to eat what promised to be a luxurious heart-attack-on-a-plate breakfast.

"Yes, thank you Michael."

Atobe was able to maintain a rough semblance of dignity as he walked to his dining hall, letting his teammates go ahead of him.

Oh what a terrible idea that was.

He was horrified to find that Shishido and Mukahi had started a coffee drinking contest to determine how much coffee was "too much". Atobe wanted to cry.

He had to physically and mentally collect himself when he heard Mukahi declare, "THREE CUPS!"

"FOUR!" Shishido had begun to drink his coffee black to save time.

"…Why is this happening to me?" Atobe lamented.

"I think this is actually quite good fun." Oshitari commented.

"I'm worried, Atobe-san." Ohtori stared blankly as Shishido downed his sixth cup of coffee.

"EIGHTH!" Mukahi shouted, now twitching rather violently.

"Atobe-san, do something!"

"KABAJI!" Atobe screamed, his voice losing its masculine intonation.

"Usu…" Kabaji had to get the rope out to stop Shishido and Mukahi to stop them from their ninth cup, but the damage had already been done. Any sane person would agree that eight cups was "too many" but Atobe wasn't even sure of his sanity anymore.

"WHEEE" Was the next thing Atobe heard coming from the general direction of Mukahi and Shishido. He now lacked the cognitive ability, or desire, to find out which out of the two made that sound.

"SETTLE DOWN AND EAT BREAKFAST SO WE CAN RESUME PRACTISE!" Atobe glared at them.

_Oh dear God no…_

"Look a rainbow!"

"And unicorns!"

"…Atobe, are you sure that was coffee?" Oshitari examined the cup suspiciously. "And not, you know … crystal meth?"

Atobe was too busy banging his head against the wall to reply.

"Oshitari-san, was it coffee?" Ohtori REALLY wanted to know. For the good of world peace.

Oshitari, being unhelpful, just shrugged, "It may or may not have contained crystal meth."

Atobe turned, "Do YOU have crystal meth?" and just as Oshitari was opening his mouth to reply, Atobe quickly threw up his hands, "…don't answer that."

Oshitari shrugged and closed his mouth again.

Anyway, everyone else's attention was on Shishido and Mukahi now playing catch with a slice of bacon and a hard-boiled egg. Suffice to say that the game wasn't going very well.

"So, uhm, is there still going to be practise today?" Hiyoshi asked after he calmly finished his croissant.

Atobe was about to reply before he espied Shishido and Mukahi running out of the dining hall and making a mad dash down his hallway. The said hallway being full of priceless works of art.

"KABAJI! CATCH THEM!"

"Usu!"

Practise was cancelled that day.

**Day 4**

Due to the fiasco that was Saturday morning practise, Atobe, against his better judgment, decided to try again Sunday. This time, to save his lawn and his hedges (he couldn't help but notice that Hiyoshi was eyeing them greedily the last time), Atobe decided to host this practise session in the Atobe gym.

He looked at his team members and prayed that they would be normal for that day.

It was too much to ask.

"Mukahi!" He walked up to the redhead as he entered the courts sheepishly late.

Before Atobe could say anything else though, Mukahi began laughing maniacally and pointed at Atobe, "HA! SO WE MEET AGAIN!"

Atobe decided to just turn and walk this one out.

It was a bad omen.

"No, seriously, what WAS in that coffee?" Shishido had to ask, but he really couldn't (and didn't want to) hide his smirk.

"Your mother!" Mukahi retorted.

"Gakuto, thank you for the cheque returning the money you owed me, but you do realize that in the memo, you put 'sensual message'."

"… He did that for the training camp cheque too." Atobe remembered all too well Sakaki-sensei's reaction.

"…Can we just start practise?"

Practise was relatively normal, of course, seeing that they had an important match coming up. Atobe was beginning to feel hopeful that it might just stay normal.

Bad omens never go away.

Stepping out of the shower with a towel wrapped around his waist, Atobe reached for his clothes and realized that they were gone. He could feel the headache starting up again.

"So…" He faced his team, now in various stages of undress, and sighed, "is anyone going to tell me where ore-sama's clothes are?"

"You're the one that took them off."

"Kabaji! Clothes!"

"Usu!"

A moment passed.

"Usu?" Not even Kabaji could find Atobe's clothes.

There was a moment's pause before Mukahi got up, crossed the room, and for a moment Atobe was hopeful. He really shouldn't have expected anything.

And then Mukahi slapped Atobe.

Yes. He slapped Atobe.

".?" Atobe was turning a dangerous shade while all the regulars gaped in horror. "MUKAHI GAKUTO."

The other regulars thought it prudent to take a step back, a large step.

"Do you want to die, ahn?" If it wasn't for his hand trying to hold his towel up, he would have throttled Mukahi on the spot. Thankfully, someone had hidden his clothes so the towel was his only line of defence. However, it didn't mean that Atobe did not try.

"Atobe! You did not turn the other cheek! I'm going to report you to the minister, ne Choutarou!"

"Er…" Ohtori really DID NOT want to be dragged into this. "…Mukahi-senpai… please…"

"Choutarou, shush, I want to see Mukahi's death."

"Shishido-san! You shouldn't…" Poor darling Ohtori, all he wanted was world peace and happiness for all. Too bad his senpai-tachi were more likely to cause WWIII than anyone else in the world.

"KABAJI! KILL EVERYONE IN THIS ROOM!"

Atobe had finally snapped.

"USU?"

"DO IT!" Irresponsibly, Atobe turned and walked away. "Oh and… find ore-sama's clothes."

The resulting scene was carnage.

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><p><strong>AN: **DONEEE, this is like a whole 1000 words longer than How to make Sanada slap. HOW DID IT GET SO LONG? It's prolly cuz Hyotei just never shuts up. Ever. Not that rikkai ever does… oh gawd.

They didn't really die... Kabaji wouldn't hurt a fly, or any lifeforms lower thereof.. xD

This doesn't really belong to my Hyotei series… unless you want it to.

There's no pairings in here on purpose, because it's for general audiences. Just like there were no pairings in the last two… unless you count the fiascos that involved Sanada and Tezuka and oh gawd headacheness.

Sorry if I managed to insult/slander/misconstrue anyone with some of the language in this fic. T'was not my intention. I love you guys.

Reviews are my lifeee :D

Be sure to check out How to Make Tezuka Give you Laps and How to Make Sanada Slap you if you liked this one!

Edited by Ica-chan or KeikoHyuuga


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